Cruel in the poster
the advertising is cruel in the poster
and in the fetish of a paper affiche
hope is for sale,
the heart is raffled…
And you appear
selling the last shred of youth,
burdening me again with the cross.
Cruel in the poster, you laugh, my heart!
It feels like shooting oneself in a corner!The night gives the room divider
its skin of dark rings…
The air wets its brush
and makes with it the Spring…
But what?
if your things are here but you are not,
because you are something for everybody,
like a naked item on the window…
I fought at your side, for you,
By God, and I lost you!I gave you a home…
I was always poor, but I gave you a home!
I wore out the fighting smiles,
fighting for you,
bleeding for you…
Then, the truth,
which is like rubbing sand on the palate
and drowining without being able to scream.
I gave you a home…
– Blame it on love! –
It feels like shooting oneself in a corner!The night gives the room divider
its skin of dark rings…
The air wets its brush
and makes with it the Spring…
But what?
if your things are here but you are not,
because you are something for everybody,
like a naked item on the window…
I fought at your side, for you,
By God, and I lost you!